Can't wake up from this
by stilljustme
Summary: Sequel to "I'll stay till you're asleep", but you don't necessarily have to have read it. The information is simple: Jamie just died in Danny's arms. Still the sun rises and sets and life goes on for the world - but can it for the Reagans, too?
1. Chapter 1

_First of all thank you to all of you who read and reviewed "I'll stay till you're asleep". Reading that my words affected you was very important and encouraging and great for me. Thanks also for the idea of getting this story forward – I hadn't thought about writing this, but now I'm glad I'm doing it – not only for Jamie. I hope you like it!_

„Reagan?" Jackie's voice cracked at the word as tears won over, but Danny didn't hear her.

He was totally focused on his baby brother. Jamie's face was very pale now, his lips almost blue in the flashlight someone had brought. The limp body was heavy in his arms, pulling him down into depths he didn't really want to see. He didn't want to see anything, or hear, for that part. Maybe if he stayed very calm, it wouldn't be real. He could still protect Jamie, he just had to stop time and make the world forget about the past minutes, and then it would be okay.  
Pictures wound up in his mind, of the siblings playing in the garden, of Joe becoming a police officer, of the boys in their first suit at Erin's wedding, Jack's birth,… the memories blurred at the edges, but all of them had one thing in common, one special picture that shone through the years: Jamie. His baby brother smiled, he was alive, he was happy, he was… yeah, he was doing something stupid, and Danny mocked him. That was how it was supposed to be.  
Danny swallowed heavily. Was Jamie afraid of him? Did the kid know that he never meant to hurt him but to protect him? He had to! He had to protect this smile.

"Reagan! It's time to let go." His partner's voice was unusually gentle, and at first Danny didn't understand it. Why was she crying? He watched her as she opened up his fingers carefully, without really feeling anything. His body was deaf and cold.  
"I'm so sorry", Jackie whispered again as she pulled Jamie out of his arms and lifted him up.

As the weight left his body, Danny understood.

Jamie was gone. He was gone and would never come back. He would never be with him again.

"No." It was not a cry, not even a pleading. It was what should be a simple statement: Jamie could not be dead.  
Danny's head spun as he watched his brother being laid into a metal tomb and then driven away in the coroner's car. With every meter the car moved, his heart hurt more and more until it was ripped apart.  
It was out of sight now. Danny struggled to breathe. His arms felt empty now, there was something missing from them. Sporadic tears rolled into his open mouth and made breathing even harder. He felt like a fish on dry land.

Eventually Jackie knelt down at his side. "I'm so sorry", she whispered, crying openly, "Danny, I'm so sorry." She shook her head as if to forget what just happened. She knew this situation; she had already seen Danny crying for a brother.  
"What can I do? Tell me, Reagan, what can I do to help you? I'll do anything, I…"  
"I need to tell Dad…" His voice was remarkably clear – if there was anything remarkable left in the world.  
Jackie bit her lips to fight back the tears. "Sure. I'll get him on the phone." At least anything she could do. Quickly the detective's fingers ran over the keyboard, she was good with numbers, the phone rang. Jackie took a deep breath. Would the commissioner be worried when he picked up? Would he assume something to be wrong or was it okay for him to be called after midnight? And did he have her number? Because if he had, he surely would assume something to be wrong – but with Danny, not with Jamie. Jamie was the good one of the family, he didn't do anything stupid. It was always Danny who stepped over boundaries, who brought himself in danger of losing more than his job. Nobody would ever, could ever think that Jamie would ever…

"Detective Curatola?" Jackie gasped. He knew her number. Unable to say anything, she threw the cell into Danny's lap.

"Hey Dad", Danny's voice was thick with uncried tears.  
A sigh of relief was heard. Jackie felt sick.  
"Hey, Danny. How are you?"  
"Dad… Joe. Joe's dead." It was difficult for Danny to pronounce the words, and he closed his eyes, that way not seeing Jackie wincing.  
Frank sighed again, and this time there was no relief. From that kind of pain there never would be relief. "I know, my son. I know." Saying "my son" to the one when talking about the other, dead one – it sounded wrong.

In the unending ocean of desperation he was drowning in, Danny felt an edge of confusion. "You know? How can you…" A sob made him stop. Jackie.

Then it hit him.

"It's Jamie, Dad." He said it very gently, as if he could hurt the little one when saying his name too harshly.  
"What's with Jamie?" The commissioner forced himself to stay calm. There was not necessarily need to worry. No need for the ice crawling up his throat and down to his heart, no need to count his own heart beats till they would stop. This had happened before, he mustn't confuse his children, it didn't happen now. "Come on, Danny, you know what time it is? Get yourself home. Jamie'll be fine." A prayer, not a fact. Frank closed his eyes and mouthed a Lord's Prayer. _Please watch over my children. _

At the mentioning of home, Jackie turned around to detective Anderson. Despite what she had thought and heard about him, the man seemed really sad about the rookie's death. At least he gave her his cell without hesitation, never looking away from Danny. "Will he get over it?", he asked hoarsely.

Jackie had to swallow down a hysterical chuckle. "No." Then she dialed. "But if he does, he'll do because of her."

"Linda Reagan." The voice on the other side of the line was scared to death, as much as she tried to hide it.  
"Linda, it's Jackie. Danny's okay…" Linda, same as her father-in-law, sighed in relief.  
"Thanks, Jackie. Now what can I do for you guys?"  
Jackie looked at Anderson as if asking for help, but he just shook his head. She couldn't even blame him.

"You need to get here, Linda. 27th street. Danny needs you." Jackie took a deep breath. "Jamie just got shot."  
"Oh my…will he be okay?"  
_No, dammit! He's a fucking Reagan, you Reagans die whenever you get shot, and then it's Danny who's gonna find you, remember, that's the fucking plan!  
_"Jackie?" Linda was alarmed again.  
Jackie closed her eyes. "He's dead, Linda. I'm sorry."  
The line went silent.  
"Linda, you need to get here, I don't know what to do with Danny, please", urged Jackie, throwing a short look over to her partner who finally cried freely, fiercely, utterly hopelessly.

So he had finally managed to tell his dad.

That Jamie had been shot.  
That Mary had been right to want him to stay out of the family business.  
That he had held his little brother as he had died in his arms, and now had lost him forever.


	2. Chapter 2

_The responses to the first chapter were incredible! Thank you so much. _

He hated phone calls after midnight.  
As Frank picked up his phone he went through all open cases from the day in his mind. There was something about a robbery, probably committed by the mayor's secretary's son – highly likeable, the lawyer was just trying to get the boy out of prison. Not the best reason to wake up the Police Commissioner, but it sort of happened. And it wasn't the worst thing to happen in the middle of the night.

This hope vanished of course when he read Jackie's name on the display. Frank stared at the blinking frame for a second, not daring to answer. Pulling yourself together and find dignity and strength to do your job gets so much harder when you're in your pajamas, lying in a big bed that's half cold.

He took a deep breath. "Detective Curatola?"  
He heard Jackie gasp, obviously surprised that he knew her number. He couldn't say why, but his instincts told him that this was a good sign. He allowed himself to breathe again.

"Hey, Dad."  
Danny. Frank sighed with relief- His son was in trouble. Worse than an annoyed lawyer, but so much better than the pictures that had popped up before his inner eyes. Frank felt the usual confidence filling him again.  
"Hey, Danny. How are you?" He had noticed a slight strain in his elder's voice, but that was okay. The job was hard.  
"Dad… Joe. Doe's dead."  
Frank closed his eyes as the pictures reappeared. Joe. His big little son lying in a lonely grave, silent forever, his smile gone. Though he had learnt by now to hold his composure when talking about his boy, but deep inside it still ripped him apart.  
Holding a baby in your arms, teaching him to walk, watching him as he goes dancing with a girl, realizing him following in your footsteps – the experience of seeing a child growing into a man, a better man than yourself, that's the greatest experience you can hope to live. Nothing had ever felt as good to Frank as being a father.  
And then he lost that man, that boy. From one minute to another, the friendly, brave power supporting him through life – was gone. Joe was gone. So was Mary. And though Frank had learnt to breathe and walk and even laugh without them, he knew that a part of him had died with those two. He would never again be as happy as he once had been.

Hearing Danny's pain ringing through the phone was another hit in the stomach. He knew Danny was feeling responsible for Joe, just as he did. And he knew he was missing his little brother more than he admitted. It was hard to see his children suffer, but on the other hand Frank took comfort in the fact that the siblings loved each other so much.  
"I know, my son. I know." There was nothing left to say. Only to live with.

"You know? How can you…" Then there was a new silence on the other side, and then: "It's Jamie, dad."  
"What's with Jamie?" The commissioner forced himself to stay calm. There was not necessarily need to worry. No need for the ice crawling up his throat and down to his heart, no need to count his own heart beats till they would stop. This had happened before, he mustn't confuse his children, it didn't happen now. "Come on, Danny, you know what time it is? Get yourself home. Jamie'll be fine." A prayer, not a fact. Frank closed his eyes and mouthed a Lord's Prayer. _Please watch over my children. _

"Jamie got shot. He's been behind me when we were chasing some… robber…" Danny's voice got lower as the world closed in around Frank. His heart was beating fiercely against the words that just stabbed his brain, pumping blood through his suddenly aching body. His hands were shaking violently.  
Jamie was shot. He was probably hurt, hopefully, under those circumstances, just hurt. The ice in his throat remained, yet Frank felt hot all over. Instinct again. He just had learnt that his youngest was shot – why did he feel like the bad thing wasn't said yet?  
"What…" His voice cracked.  
Danny swallowed, and Frank's heart raced up. Running from or running towards the answer? And while his heart went faster and faster, the wheel of time went slower and slower and –

"Dad? Jamie's dead."

- and stopped.

"You sure?" It was a typical Reagan thing that their voices could be so calm when everything inside was breaking down.  
"What the hell you think I am, huh? I saw him die, I felt him die right in my arms! I am sure!" So much for calmness. Danny's shouting was washed away by sobs, and Frank felt his head spinning. He needed to put the phone down, he needed to get Danny out of the line. He needed to get his son to be alive.

"Okay", he said, and then, "I'll call Linda to get to you." Thinking was so difficult now that a part of his brain was numbed. He couldn't think about it now. Just another second.  
"Jackie just called her", Danny was still sobbing. "He's gone, dad. One moment I held him in my arms just as if he was hurt as a kid, and the next…"  
Frank closed his eyes as every new word hit him somewhere between the eyes. "Okay," he managed to get out, without really knowing what he'd just said.  
For a moment both men just fought for their composure and against the truth. Just as Frank felt like he couldn't keep up the line any longer, Danny murmured, "I gotta go, dad. I'll tell Linda."

The Commissioner nodded and out the phone down with shaking hands, allowing the father to totally take over.

Jamie was dead.  
He had lost another son.

Sitting straight in his bed, Frank let the truth flood through his body and soul, knowing that now he had to face it. It was over and Jamie was dead. He was gone.

Frank didn't feel a thing.

Even after minutes, after he'd been through the talk in his mind over again – he simply didn't feel anything. He was cold and numb and Jamie was dead and it didn't make sense.

Slowly Frank climbed out of his bed and went through the dark house, over to Jamie's room.

All the anxiety he had felt before was gone by now, it was just as if his whole being was at ease again now that he knew what had happened.

Jamie was dead. Frank shook his head. He was a father, he should feel more when thinking this sentence through. But he didn't. Actually, thinking "a cop's dead" hurt more than "Jamie's dead". It was just not imaginable – seeing his little handsome boy lying motionlessly on a metal bed, not smiling anymore. That didn't make sense.

The Commissioner's hands had stopped shaking by the time he opened the door to Jamie's former room. Since he was the youngest, his furniture and games were the most intact, and Jack and Sean often came up here to play.

Frank sat down on the bed, his head spinning but not really getting reality in.

Not till he saw the photograph on the night table. It had been taken almost fifteen years ago, and they were all on it: Frank himself, an arm around Mary, the other around Linda. Mary had both of her arms around Erin, protective about her daughter and her first grandchild, Nicky, just six weeks old. John was standing right beside his wife, but not touching her. Danny was sitting in front of Linda, leaning on her legs, and next to him was Joe.  
And between Danny and Joe, right in the middle of the picture, was Jamie, ten years old and smiling.

His sweet little boy who always wanted to help people. Frank touched the glass frame but didn't dare to lift it up. That was what he had just forgotten.

Jamie was dead. Like, really. It wasn't a joke or news for the press or something in the local police report.

It was his son. And he was dead.

Reality set in with fists of iron. Frank slipped off the bed and fell to the ground, his body still numb to the world around but highly alert to the truth that sat on his chest.

"Jamie…" Saying the name of his youngest child ripped the masque down for good. Frank started to sob violently, unable to breathe, unable to see. This was a nightmare. He couldn't go through this, he couldn't be there for his children to help them go through this. He couldn't lose another child, not again, not Jamie… he turned his head around wildly, his tear-blinded eyes only catching flashes of vision. The room was filled with memories. Here he had sat with Jamie, explaining algebra to him – just once, then he had been able to do it himself. Over there was a bit of blood cause Joe and Danny had fought in here, they always fought at Jamie's so their parents wouldn't find him.

Every place, every bit of space in the room was inhabited by Jamie, and Jamie wasn't anymore. It nauseated Frank to be here, yet he couldn't move.  
"Jamison", he croaked, as if it was the medicine. Just that it wasn't.  
"Jamie." Not enough air inside here. As Frank got up and left the room – after stroking and patting the blanket back into its usual shape – he realized that a part of him still was numb to everything. He would just realize it totally, the police officer in him said, when he had to call Erin.

God be good, Erin.

Hand on the doorknob, Frank turned around again. Jamie's room was so dark now, so empty.

"I… I have to call Erin", the Commissioner said into the darkness with a now calm and toneless voice, "I have to call Erin and tell her that Jamie" – he felt tears shooting into and at once out of his eyes – "is dead." He coughed over the last word, it choked him. It was this feeling that made it clear to Frank at last that he was wide awake, that it wasn't a nightmare, or – yes, it was. But it was one of those nightmares you can't wake up from.

"Jamie's dead", he whispered again, and now his mind was filled with pictures of his son, laughing, crying, being worried for someone else – he always was - , sick and healthy, as a baby and a teenager. His son. A young man as good as any he'd ever known.

His little boy. He was gone. Frank heard his own labored breath. How was he supposed to live till he could see Jamie again? How was he supposed to live without him?

And how was he supposed to tell Erin about it?

Frank broke down again, crying. He was so tired. It hurt so bad. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to see his wife again, he wanted to kiss her and tell her how beautiful she was.

He wanted to see his sons again. He wanted to hug them and never let go and protect them from everything.  
Mary. Joe.  
Jamie.

The names choked him.

He wanted to finally come home to them.


	3. Chapter 3

„State Attorney Reagan-Boyle?"  
Erin, too, was used to calls after midnight. She probably hated them even more, though, than her father did.  
Especially when she had left her cell in the living room where it would wake up Nicky.  
"Mom? What's up?"  
"Dad? Is it you? What's up?" Erin motioned her daughter to be quiet, already halfway alarmed. Automatically, Nicky straightened up and held her breath, mimicking her mother.  
Erin listened for about a minute, then suddenly gasped. "Wha…"  
"Mom?"  
But this time, Erin didn't react. Her legs gave way as the wish to be in a nightmare washed over her with a force she hadn't felt since… yeah, since Joe had died. She put her hands over her mouth to keep from wheezing, and before she could hinder it, Nicky took the phone and held it to her ear. "Grandpa?"  
"No!" Quickly, Erin slapped the cell out of her daughter's hands. "Dad, it's okay, it's okay." The words were so wrong that she almost choked on them. She took a deep breath. "Do you want us to come over now?"  
Nicky's eyes were wide with fear by now.  
"Okay, dad. Take care, I… I'll see you tomorrow." She hit the button with the last energy she could afford.  
_No. It wasn't right. It couldn't be._

But deep inside Erin knew exactly that it was true.  
"Mom?" Nicky's voice was small and frightened. "What's wrong? What happened?"  
Erin closed her eyes for a second. She already felt the pain rolling through her body like waves, tearing her apart with every beat of her heart.  
"Mom? Please?" Nicky was close to tears now. For a moment Erin found distraction in the thought that she never wanted to raise her only child in such an environment. Nicky shouldn't be afraid when the phone rang in the middle of the night.  
So practically it was Joe's fault. And from now on…  
Erin reached out and put her arm around Nicky's shoulders, causing her to sit down and lean against her. She kissed the teenager's forehead, preparing herself to say it out loud. It hurt. It hurt so much to think about it, about how life would be from now on.

"Nicky, your uncle Jamie…" As she said the name, the tears started to fall. Erin closed her eyes.  
_ Not Jamie! Not her baby brother, not the family's sunshine, not her best friend, not, not her sweet little brother! She couldn't lose another member of her family, she couldn't do this job without their support…  
_"…he was shot an hour ago, Danny was with him. He's dead."  
"He's…" Nicky broke off. She shivered and retched, and for another short moment Erin could forget the corpse in her heart as she carried her daughter into the bathroom.  
"It's okay", she whispered as Nicky bowed over the toilet, "it's okay, baby, it's okay."  
_No it's not_, her heart cried.  
"No it's not", Nicky cried, still coughing but not throwing up. "It's not okay, mom!" She broke down on the cold floor and buried her face in her hands. "Why uncle Jamie?", she whispered, "why him? I love him so much!"  
"I do too, honey!" Erin went down beside her daughter and hugged her tightly, holding onto her so neither of them would fall apart. She stroke over Nicky's hair, rocking her like she had done when Nicky had been a baby.  
Like she had done with Jamie when he had been a baby.

Breathing got harder. Erin knew she should be strong now, she knew she had to be there for her daughter.  
Nicky and Jamie always had a strong bonding. Though Erin had made Joe godfather, Nicky's favorite uncle had always been Jamie. They were closest in age, with Jamie being only eleven years older than her. He had still been in school when she started with kindergarten, so whenever Erin was busy it would be Jamie and Mary to take Nicky home. After Mary died the bonding had grown even stronger.  
And Jamie was the only one who had never reprimanded the teenager. He knew best from all of them how it was to be young and insecure about how to act and what to do when you're an adult. He himself had doubted his decision so often.

Erin shivered as a memory stabbed her right through the heart: She had been the first person to know that Jamie would be going to be a cop. He had told her about it only two days after Joe's funeral, and at the beginning, she had thought it was a bad joke.

"_Do you think that's funny? Joe's just right down and you start following in his footsteps? I tell you something, Jamie, forget the academy, just get yourself shot and do it now so we won't have to pretend we can recover from the loss!" Erin was fuming. She felt betrayed, deeply and utterly betrayed – when Jamie had asked her for this talk, mentioning that there was something important he needed to tell her, she had assumed – no, hoped – that finally he and Sydney would go the whole hog. The perspective of having three lawyers against three cops, more or less (she had to count her grandfather in) was tempting. And with Sydney there the dinner table would probably not look so empty.  
And now he was telling her that he wanted to be a cop as well. And he told her first, her, from all people!  
"Mom would turn over in her grave, you realize that?" She asked icily.  
Jamie nodded in shame. "I know", he said softly, his voice still thick with grieve. "But I can't change who I am, Erin. And being a lawyer is just… see, you're born to do this. You're amazing. And…" "You don't get born to be a lawyer, Jamie, stop counting it away from our blood", she interrupted, flattered by the compliment she knew to be meant honestly, but still angry, "working for the law means knowing it, and that means a whole lot of learning, you know that. You don't get born as a lawyer, you have to study to become one. And you did, Jamie. You studied to become a lawyer."  
"No, I didn't." The young man's face was clouded. "I studied for mom, because I know she wouldn't have me being a police officer as well. And I… I get to understand why. I know the job's dangerous." He swallowed, and Erin bit her lips to fight off the tears. She had cried for the last ten days, it was so odd that she still had tears left.  
"It's just…" Jamie closed his eyes, as if too ashamed to look into his sister's eyes. Automatically, Erin moved closer.  
"It's just that I think… Joe died working on a job he loved, protecting people… I want that, too. I mean I… I'd give anything to have him back, Erin, I would, but – I can't. I just can try to honor him with my life, and I think I can do it better by being a cop."  
Erin hugged her baby brother tightly. Ten years younger yet taller than her, she wasn't sure who was holding whom upright right now. Both each other, most likely.  
"I know", she whispered gently, "but Joe wouldn't want you to spend your life trying to do his job. He wouldn't want you to feel like you have to fulfill what he can't do anymore." She closed her eyes at that and held Jamie closer. He gently patted her back.  
"That's not what I meant", he murmured, "I just thought that… Erin, being a lawyer won't make me happy. I studied it, and I would never call it a waste of time – if nothing else, I found Sydney. For that I'll always love Harvard. But it's not where I belong. I belong to New York, to the city, to the streets."_

To the streets… he would never leave them again now. He was gone, and it felt like he had taken all of Erin's strength with him. She could no longer hold Nicky in her arms, they fell open as she fell down, into a black hole where there was no time and no love or justice. It was an eternal night she woke up to, a cold wind that sang her mother's name, and Joe's, and it also sang a song of her dead marriage. Fail.  
So often Erin had failed. But whenever she had fallen into that black hole, someone had come up and helper her out.  
It was her father, most of the times, and Danny and Linda, who helped her when the world decided to stop or go twice as fast.  
And when neither of them was there, Erin knew she could always count on Jamie. Even if he hadn't the answer, if there was one existing, he was always there and listened to her.

She needed him now. She needed him now to make her smile, to give her a hug or a smile, anything that would tell her that her family and she'd be okay.

Erin buried her face in her hands as she realized the impossibility of her needs. She wanted Jamie to comfort her because she had just lost Jamie, and it hurt so much that she didn't dare to live through it alone.

Jamie. Erin shook her head. She didn't want that. Bad things happened to good people, she saw that almost every day, but – not Jamie. Not her little brother, not the best friend she ever had. Not the most polite and clever and handsome young man on earth. She remembered him asking about Melissa Samuels, not giving up his small chance to help her.

Jamie. He was too important a part in Erin's life, he was a part of her, how could he be dead without asking her? How could he ever die?

"I love him so much", Nicky whispered in tears, "I want him to be alive! Tell me it's a joke, mom, please! Please tell me it's not real!"  
Erin sighed and moved closer to her daughter again. "I wish I could, baby. God knows how much I wish I could."  
"I'm gonna miss him so much, and every single day of my life", Nicky said – and then, finally, she clung to the toilet and threw up like crazy, giving Erin another twenty minutes to think about what Nicky just had said.  
Every single day of my life.  
She had to live with Jamie being gone for the rest of her life now. He would never marry or have children, and there was nothing – there was exactly nothing she could do. Nothing to fill the black hole in her heart.

There was so much Jamie would miss. So much where she would miss him.  
Erin supported her daughter till there was nothing left to be retched out, then brought her to bed.  
"Try to sleep now, okay?"  
Nicky nodded weakly. "Can it all be a dream, mom? Could it be that we're all in a nightmare?"

Erin swallowed. "You can't wake up from this, honey. This is the reality God has put us in." She coughed at the mentioning of God, but it seemed just right.  
"Try to sleep anyway, okay?"  
"Can you stay with me?" She hadn't asked that since she was seven.  
Erin nodded. "Of course." She sat down on the bed and kissed her daughter, trying not to think about what would happen to her if Nicky died. She hated these thoughts, but they kept coming up every once and then.

Now one of them had become real. Erin had to leave her daughter's room as she realized that it was definitively and true now. She had no little brother left.  
it choked her to think like that, and it hurt, it ripped her whole body apart. Breathing got heavy because breathing meant opening up your brain, even if it was just for a moment.

Her whole life. She had to miss Jamie for the rest of her life.  
She missed him already more than she think she could endure.

Empty. That was how she felt. She was an empty instrument, and the most beautiful piece of music had just vanished forever, and she had nothing more than the memory.

Jamie, Erin's heart said with every beating. Jamie, Jamie, Jamie… it choked her up with tears and love and longing, and yet she hadn't really realized it.  
She'd really realize it in the morning, when he wouldn't come to their father.  
Dad. Lost another son on duty.  
Now it was Erin's turn to go over to the bathroom, waiting to threw up frustration and pain. It didn't work.

There was a dagger in her heart, saying that she never had said how proud she was of her little brother. Saying that she hadn't been there for Jamie when he needed her. Saying that she should've been a better sister.

Now it was too late.


	4. Chapter 4

_Closing the circle… there'll be another two chapters after this one (or so I plan), one dealing with the rest of the family and the other one about Jamie's funeral. Thank you so much to all of you who're reading, even though right now in the series, Jamie is the one to grieve and not really his family (or so I guess, kind of – I want to see season 3! Or at least season 2…) – anyway. There are such heartbreaking stories out there about Jamie dealing with guilt and grief that it's a hard to keep on writing this one somehow. I still hope you like it._

_"You need to get here, Linda. 27th street. Danny needs you. Jamie just got shot."  
"Oh my…will he be okay? Jackie?"  
"He's dead, Linda. I'm sorry. Linda, you need to get here, I don't know what to do with Danny, please!"_

Linda put down the phone, trying very hard not to think about what she'd just heard. She knew her family well enough – she couldn't allow herself to break down now. She had to stay calm and composed for them so they could hold onto her. She had to be the rock in the stormy ocean that saved them from drowning in pain about…about what had happened.

Within a heartbeat, Linda switched to auto-pilot, something she had learnt to do soon after marrying a cop. Dressing, getting tissues, sleeping pills and alcohol, checking but not waking up the boys, walking over to her neighbor Mary Foreman to give her the keys and ask her to watch over the children. Mary, too, knew that mode. She had worked together with Linda, actually she had taught her everything way back when. The two women remained friends after Mary retired, and though their relationship had been strained after Linda decided to stay at home after having Sean, she knew that she could always count on the elder woman. Work was one thing, a strong and important part of life that could make you immortal if you were good.  
But it was family that made you live.

As she got into the car Linda breathed again. Right before her she noticed a daisy in the grass. What a lovely sight! What a lovely night, actually. She wouldn't have to drive too long, so maybe she could keep her mind on flowers and stars till she reached Danny, maybe she could avoid thinking about…_no. Stop it. Look at the car over there…_ but it was too late, and Linda had been a nurse for too long. She knew exactly how dead people looked like. And she knew her little brother – brother-in-law, she reminded herself, as if that would help getting any distance between her and him. Don't say his name, not even in thoughts. Linda shivered. She couldn't cry now, she couldn't, Danny needed her.  
Danny whom she loved so much that she had given up her rich family, big house and cool job, knowing that what he would give her was more than anything she could ever ask from life. She had never regretted it. And now he needed her.

She remembered it so well – the night that Joe had died. Linda's heart had broken twice then, once for Joe who had so much still to live, so much that he would never do, and once for Danny. In that night Linda had feared for her husband's life, probably more than ever because what was killing Danny came from the inside and couldn't be treated. Danny had been drowning in his grief, and Linda knew the feeling, knew it from her mother and from Mary – how suffocating it was to know that someone you loved was dead. How thinking it sucks out all the oxygen and light from the room so you're left alone with the knowledge and it sits down heavily on your chest, making you choke on your sobs, how your heart beats the dead's name, and you breathe it in, breathe it out and how it makes you gag and you can't get rid of it, can't change it…

With trembling hands Linda pulled to the side. Her heart beat painfully, though she knew best how stupid that was – it was the brain that contained emotions, not the heart. The heart didn't feel a thing. Still it hurt, and as the first tears stumbled down her numb cheeks, Linda heard a familiar voice filling her with every beat of her heart, pumping through her in her blood.  
_Danny_, it said and her heart broke anew as she remembered him then, holding Joe in his arms, desperate, helpless.  
_Joe_, the voice added and new tears came as Linda saw Joe's laughing face before her. Then the picture changed, like a reflection on the water shattered by a stone – _Jamie_. It was a new name to be said by that voice, but his face was so familiar. A sweet little boy, with a smile that made everyone's day bright. _Keep him like that, young and careless and forever._

Were they all sure he was dead? Cause it didn't make any sense. Linda wiped the tears away and started the engine again, not sure what to feel. The part of her that still was on auto-pilot did realize that she had just lost another brother, but she didn't feel any pain yet. Not for herself at least. She just feared for Danny, and it was that fear that made her drive faster than usual, faster than the law allowed, faster, don't think and drive. As she reached 27th street and halted the car, pictures of Jack and Sean rose in her memory. Her precious boys – these pictures were what she'd take with her when she died. Her sons and – Danny.

He was there, still kneeling on the ground, bathed in blood. Even though Linda knew that it wasn't his own, she was shocked.

So it was real. Little Jamie – he'd just started with high school when she married Danny – was lost.

Deep down inside Linda felt the pain starting, the final knowledge, and a part of her was almost relieved about it.  
Then Danny looked up and saw her, his eyes red and drowned by absolute, hopeless, endless pain.  
Linda was choked by her tears before she noticed that she was crying. For one second she couldn't move, paralyzed by the pain she saw in her husband's eyes. This was worse than anything she had ever seen, so much worse. Danny cried. He cried in public, hovering on the cold ground with the whole world around him. But the world didn't exist anymore. Time didn't exist anymore. Danny had never cried in public before, not at his mother's funeral, not even when he had found Joe's corpse in a street like that. Just like that.

Still struggling to breathe Linda held onto Danny's glance though the voice in her head shouted to run from the hurt in them. She knew that look so well, she had seen it with mothers, wives, fathers, children,… brothers. Wherever they came and to wherever they went, it was all the same. All the same look when she had to tell them that their beloved ones would die.  
_That can't be… look at her, she's alive, she's healthy, she'll be okay… money's no problem, there's got to be way… no, he won't! Don't tell me he'll die, I can't live with him dead, it won't happen… don't say that. Say that it's a joke, I'll laugh if you want me to. Just don't say that. Let it be a joke. Save them. Do anything. Tell me it's not true.  
Tell me it's not true.  
_But it was. It was, and both of them knew it. Linda didn't know how she finally got over to Danny. All she noticed were that his eyes got steadily bigger and sadder till she reached him and hugged him, holding on tight so he wouldn't be washed away by tears, so she wouldn't lose him, too…

Danny held onto her as to life itself. He couldn't think straight anymore. It was hard enough to breathe through all the tears he couldn't stop, and he told himself that if he just didn't let go of Linda now, he wouldn't have to let go of Jamie. It was too hard a thing to bear, too much to realize it. He should have been the one to be shot, he should have looked after Jamie, he should have… but his thoughts were blurred. It was so hard to concentrate, and he was so tired. So tired, but there still was a message he had to get over to Linda, he had to tell her just as he had told his father, vision fuzzy with tears. Thinking of his dad made him choke.

"Jamie's dead" he whispered hoarsely, wondering at how two words could break down his world.

Linda pulled back so she could see Danny's face, determined to stand through his pain. She would be his rock, she would be whatever he needed.  
"I know" she answered quietly, feeling new tears falling but never looking away. "I know." The lump in her throat got bigger as Danny buried his face in her hair anew, still crying.

Endless tears, and despite what she just had sworn, for a moment Linda couldn't help but falling in with her own tears, crying out her heart as if that could wash out the news. Endless tears. Hurt that echoes down the generations, and it would never stop. Jamie would never come back, no matter how long they could keep up their composure and swallow down the grief, it would never be long enough. The pain that made it hard to breathe would never stop.


	5. Chapter 5

_Okay… sorry, this chapter will not be about the rest oft he family, since they'll get enough spcae in the last chapter. But there are other people that spent parts of their lives with Jamie – and they also have to realize that his life has ended, and theirs therefore have changed._

_Deadly incident involving the arrestment of Mafia-Boss: Rookie-Officer Jamison Reagan (26) killed on duty.  
_The world backed away. She watched herself sitting down at her desk, saw her hands shaking but didn't feel a thing. The voices of her colleagues ebbed down to a humming she didn't understand anymore, and the words on the screen – she had to have misread them! And it would be easier to reread them if it wasn't for the tears forming in her eyes. Sydney put her hand up to her face to wipe them away, her fingers still numb.  
She had known this could happen. That was one of the reasons she had left him in the first place. She had left him because she hadn't felt good anymore, being bond to a man who clearly had wife and family erased out of his plan for the next ten years.  
She had left him because it wouldn't be right for either of them. Through many sleepless nights Sydney had asked herself if what she had done – escape by running forward – was the right thing, and for every night but three the answer had been yes. As much as she loved the man she had got to known in Harvard – handsome, intelligent, passionate, humorous, kind – she couldn't follow him on this path. It was the right thing to leave him, for his sake so he'd be free to follow in his brother's footsteps and…. God. He had followed Joe to the point.  
As she heard herself starting to sob the world set in again, loud and hot around her. She mustn't cry. Not here, not now. All these feelings, her tears… they didn't belong to her world anymore.

"Syd, you're okay?" Out of nowhere came the voice of Hannah Wood, private investigator of the house and Sydney's angel in the first months here.  
"Yeah, of course." She had always been good at smiling, but Hannah was too good in her own job. Obviously not believing she moved closer to Sydney. "Don't you lie to me, hun, what's…"  
"Morning, ladies!" Sydney jerked as Andrew walked in, Hannah's brother – and the man she had flirted and slept with for the last three weeks.  
Did that make him her boyfriend?

The mere thought made Sydney shudder, and she couldn't help crying openly now.  
"Syd! Baby, what's wrong?" Immediately Andrew was at her side and hugged her, his face turned away from the screen that still shouted Jamie Reagan's death out into the world.  
"It's okay" he murmured soothingly, "everything's okay, there's nothing we can't settle, is it?"  
She almost laughed at that. Of course – the first time she had met Andrew, she had been crying, too. Because her boss was an asshole, because having graduated from Harvard didn't seem to help at all, because it had been one of those nights that ended with "no".  
Though Sydney was sure she had seen contempt in Hannah's eyes, then, both of the siblings had comforted her. They had helped her through all of it, and by now her life here was perfect. She had a lot of good colleagues, some fewer real friends, she had a new apartment after all, her boss had finally stopped bugging her – "my gosh… no!" She wound out of Andrew's arms, getting the bigger picture like a puzzle slowly fitting together.  
"Sydney, what's wrong?" Hannah's voice was less gentle now, partly because she was very, very protective of Andrew, partly because of the typical American way to get emotional about everything that she so disliked.

Sydney didn't answer. She stood right before the screen now, seeing clearly what lay behind her but unsure what to do next. If she left this place, Andrew would read that it was the news about her ex-fiancé that had upset her so. If she stayed, they would force her to speak it out, or to try lying to them.

And it didn't matter at all.

"I'm sorry", Sydney whispered, looking at Andrew. "I'm really very sorry. I didn't know it myself."  
"You didn't know what?" Andrew was so much more patient than his sister, but still it sounded wrong. It felt wrong.  
She didn't want Andrew to comfort her. Just as she hadn't wanted Matt to flirt with her, it had had nothing to do with him being her boss and her being only a secretary then. It wasn't her brain that had refused those men, it was her heart, her stupid heart she had carried so far only to realized that Jamie still held all of it.

Sydney finally moved back and left the bureau, leaving Andrew and Hannah to read the news, or maybe they didn't, she didn't care. As she stepped into the elevator she realized the last time she had done so with her hands shaking.  
Jamie had called, then.

Jamie. Sydney saw him right before her now, the night he had proposed to her. She had never been so happy in her entire life.

She had left him to protect herself from the pain it would bring to lose him on the job – to protect herself from seeing him dead and having to bury him like they had buried Joe.  
"The hurt echoes down the generations", Linda had told her. It never stopped. And everyday she would have been afraid for Jamie's life, that was more than Sydney could have imagined bearing.

Now she knew there were worse things. And she knew that all her running away had only made it worse, because now she had even lost the right to grieve for him.  
The right to love him, which she still did.

Sydney loved Jamie, that was the red line beneath all her plans – becoming a stat attorney here and getting used to hard cases so she wouldn't need any support from him, and then, after five or even ten years – coming home. Returning to New Returning to New York, to her home.  
Every time she had pictured it in her mind, somehow it was clear to her that she would meet Jamie again. She didn't need to hurry, someday somehow they'd find each other again. And she'd make it up for leaving him, and he'd make it up for not being there for her.  
Maybe they ended up being best friends, both of them not getting married. Or maybe – after ten years of protesting from Danny – they'd get married after all.

When Sydney had left her fiancé, she had left the possibility of him getting killed on duty, too. It was so much easier to forget about the danger when you're miles away from them. Besides – for the past eleven months she had been convinced to be over Jamie. She didn't need him where she was right now. He would wait for her at home.

Sydney left the elevator and the building, going out to a street that still was foreign to her.  
Jamie was dead. He was really gone, not only out of her life, but – for real. He was dead. He was everywhere right now, his smile blossoming up in her memory, the warmth of his arms around her, his shy voice as he knelt down before her – but he was gone.

Sydney buried her face in her hands, nails dugging deep into her cheeks to forget, forget every bad word she had said to him, forget the hurt in her eyes, forget the Reagans that hated her, forget that Jamie was dead, forget it…

She would never come home to him.

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_Okay…I didn't plan Sydney's part to be that long. Actually I wanted to add some thoughts about Renzulli to this chapter, but since it's developed that way, maybe he'll get a chapter of his own, too. Not sure yet. Anyway, as always, I hope you liked it, and reviews are very appreciated!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Hey…I'm not really sure about this one, I hope it's not too OOC. While writing I could see Renzulli rambling around, given that he has this kind of irony in his words almost everytime. For me he always tried to speak light-headed, even if the topic was earnest. There are very rarely moments (at least in season one) where he goes totally serious in his speech and voice. Also, I don't know about the rules of an American funeral, so this might be completely wrong, sorry. However – as always please let me know what you think about it, and thank you so much for reading and already having reviewed and being there. Next chapter will bring Jamie six feet under and the story to an end.  
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„Hey, Reagan. Nice morning today. My wife's all about planting peonies in the garden this weekend. I told her I had no time, but you know how women are. Ever since I listened to you and bought her some that Valentine's Day." Renzulli shook his head and looked up to the clear blue sky. "If nothing else, Joe, this one'll remain from you. Peonies." He sighed as his eyes wandered back down to the grave in front of him. "Not that it's likely that nothing else will remain. Why, you sure are… were… one of the best ones I ever trained." He swallowed. Talking to a Reagan was never easy, and that didn't end with the living ones.

Ever since Joseph had died almost three years ago, Renzulli walked over to the grave on Saturday morning, right after visiting his parents. They had both died seven years ago, both with cancer, his dad also suffering from dementia. The last year with them had been a cruel one for both Tony and his older brother Sergio, and also for Tony's wife, of course. He didn't know how he'd lived through this without her.  
But at least his parents had been old. And they had been together.

"And what does your father have left, Reagan?" The sergeant bowed his head in respect as he turned to the left to greet Mary's and Betty's graves. Another shake of the head. "Your dad got nothing, Joe. Honestly. You left him alone. Bad enough your mom died, and then you. You shouldn't have pulled that one on him. "  
He walked three steps back at this, biting his lips. He wasn't mad at Joe, that was only a game he played every week only to realize the truth, every week anew: He was angry at the city. And at himself. At himself in the first place, for if he truly was angry at New York City, how could he risk his life working for it?  
Just that it wasn't his life that was risked, and lost. Again.

"It's not fair, Reagan. I mean life's never fair, but this…" he pointed at the grave, "this is what really breaks the world down. It's not guns or drugs or even politics. It's you. You and Harvard, and the thing that you…" He stopped midsentence as his finger and eyes moved away from Joe's grave and further to the right. The sergeant swallowed heavily, grimacing so his eyes wouldn't even get the idea of watering. It was hard, though, as he saw the hole that tomorrow would be filled with another tomb, another corpse, another dead brother in blue.  
Just that he would never see Jamie and Joe Reagan as brothers. If anything, these boys were like…well, no. They couldn't be his children. They had a father. And he wasn't one at all, he had no idea of having children. Though he surely had seen him growing, little Jamie Reagan. Seven months on the job and he had gone from bluest of rookies to a real police officer. One of the guys you never hear prancing around, yet still… they're the ones you're proud of working with. They're the ones that make the police of New York to the best force on earth.

"You know… I'm sorry." Renzulli felt drained by the mere look. A black hole that swallowed Jamie Reagan from the world. That was much to bear, even for a police officer. He stared at the mud as if he could force it do disappear that way. The only thing happening, however, was memories getting up from the hole that was his brain right now. The sergeant closed his eyes and cowered down right between Joe's grave, and Jamie's grave-to-be.

The youngest of the family. So much alive, both of them. So eager to do something for the people and the city, and how did people thank them? They sent them away, they threw eggs, they hated them.  
And how had _he_ thanked his rookies?  
Renzulli gave up the grimacing battle against the lonely tear that rolled down his cheek. After Joe had died, he had blamed himself for not preparing him enough, for being too hard in one way and too soft in the other.  
"You know, when your little brother came", he murmured towards Joe, not daring to announce Jamie directly, "I swore an oath to myself I wouldn't be the one watching the tomb from outside this time. I swore that if one of us died out there, it'd be me. And now look at me. And look at that boy." Renzulli buried his face in his hands. "He was one of the best", he admitted. "One of the best guys I've ever seen. Clever, daring if you dared him, nice, aware of his responsibilities… I guess he was the most mature of you Reagan men, if I may say so."

"You may." Frank Reagan approached the graves. He was composed as ever but his voice was heavy with too much he had lived through. Renzulli quickly stood up. "I'm sorry, Commissioner, I didn't…" "Let the commissioner go, Tony. He's of no use here." Frank didn't look at the sergeant but almost right through him to the hole that would soon raven his son.

Renzulli nodded, but as he opened his mouth to say anything he realized that he could not say "Frank". He couldn't call the first name of a man who had lost two sons under his command. Maybe he wasn't even supposed to be here.

"I'm sorry", the sergeant said, to both Jamie and his father. "I was sure I'd… he never ought to be there all along, I tried to tell him but…"  
"No one blames you, Tony." The commissioner's voice was tired but honest.  
Renzulli shook his head. "Don't tell me no one blames me, it was me they got killed under."  
Saying it out loud made the weight on his shoulders even heavier. He was standing here, besides a broken man who had lost one son and now had just lost another one, and both of them had learned to do their job with Renzulli.  
"I tell you no one blames you because it's true." The commissioner's eyes still didn't leave the bed Jamie would soon lie in forever. "In all those years, Tony, whenever we gave you a rookie, he came home the first day angry and the second to last day smiling." He swallowed. "Jamie and Joe learned what they knew from you. And Jamie respected you very much. I think he felt like you really cared for him. And for the city. There's no one to blame at all." Only now he tore away his glance and looked at Renzulli. "Thank you, Tony", he said sincerely, "for everything you did for my sons." And with that he knelt down in front of his wife's grave and closed his eyes.

Renzulli nodded. Then with a last glance towards the empty grave, he walked away, a picture of Harvard in his mind, clear as day. Harvard – had the kid ever registered that a nickname was something good? At least nothing bad? Had he told the rookie he was good at was he doing, and that sooner or later he'd even excel Danny if he wanted to?

"You were good, Harvard", Renzulli murmured into the air. "You were the very best rookie I ever worked with. You'd be great out here." He looked up into the sun. That way at least he had an excuse for his tears, if not for his heart, pumping heavily and aching with grief and guilt.  
"Did I ever tell you I was proud?" He turned around and saw the Commissioner still kneeling in front of his family. Quickly he counted the family members lying there. Mother, wife, son, son. His father remained, one son – poor Danny. How would he survive another dead brother? – and his daughter.

"I'm sorry, Jamie. I'm sorry I couldn't take that bullet for you, son, see I'm okay with guns. I mean I don't love them, but I got used to it. It's just that… then there comes that one son of a bitch and while I'm not here to have your back, you get killed. That's not the way it's supposed to be, man! You youngsters wait to get us old men into the grave. That's how it's supposed to be." He took a deep breath and briskly wiped off the tears from his face.  
He still saw Jamie in his mind and that wasn't really helpful for regaining his composure. But the truth was he didn't only grieve as a TO who had lost a rookie. And it wasn't only sympathy with the Reagans, either.

Tony Renzulli grieved for a friend. For a young man with instinct and a smile that made people trust him. For the kind of cop he always wanted to be. He wasn't sure if he had reached that goal. And right now he was too tired and to angry to really think about it.  
Yes, he was angry at New York. That city drained him.  
Jamie had loved it, though. And now he'd never see the city again.

"Oh damn it, Harvard." Renzulli closed his eyes. "You really shouldn't be where you are right now. See, we'd need you here. But I know you were doing the right thing out there. That's the job, ain't it? I just wish it wouldn't be you. Well, it's not us to decide who's going." He took a deep breath and straightened up. "You know what I'm gonna do now? I'm gonna stop talking to myself and then I'm gonna go home and kiss my wife goodbye for doing my job another day. Your job, Harvard. Our job. And I'm gonna do it for you."


	7. Chapter 7

_Okay… here is it. As always, thank you so much for R&R, and thank you especially _**riowolf**_, _**mi guard**_, _**Annic**_ and _**CBloom2 **_ for always encouraging me. I've longed to write this chapter ever since I started this story, and now – well, I just start writing so I can't tell you how it's going to be. There might be similarities to _**Annic's Cant wake up from this – Part II**_ (lol), since it's dealing with the same plot. Kind of. Sorry. The funeral's rites are Austrian, since I don't know how an American funeral works – I hope you're not too irritated. From now on everything in italic is a flashback (or thoughts, if it's only one line – you'll get it)._

**Erin  
**When she woke up that day Erin promised herself not to cry. She stood in front of the bedroom mirror, taking in the picture of a woman in black. Poor old girl, fighting for the law, spending her day hairsplitting and chitchatting with defenders. Negotiations, that was what her life consisted of. Much talking for not much to be done. Was that all of it?  
It were moments like these when Erin realized that the only real thing in her life was the people around her. Her family.  
And now she had to bury her little brother. Again.  
Erin clasped the frame of the mirror, looking for a halt. Again -

_Jamie stumbled, and immediately Erin's hand shot forward, steadying him. She rested it there at his arm till he turned around. "Just wet grass, I'm okay." "Sure." She pulled back, understanding his need to stand alone yet needing his warmth so much. The queue got shorter every minute. Soon it would be their turn to pass Joe's grave and say their last goodbye before the tomb was brought down, covered with the blue of the NYPD.  
Suddenly Jamie turned around. His eyes were so filled with grief it made her shiver. How were they supposed to live through so much pain? How should they ever get over…  
"Joe", Jamie whispered hoarsely, and Erin nodded, her throat blocked with tears. Unable to speak she put her hand on Jamie's arm, to remind him that she was here, to remind herself that he, at least, was really here, too.  
"I love you, Erin" Jamie said, fear glowing up in his eyes now, "you know that, don't…"  
"Yes, I do!" Fiercely and desperate she hugged her little brother. "And I love you too, Jamie. I love you." They held each other tightly, both trying and failing to substitute the one they had just lost, both afraid they might lose the other one, too. Both knowing they wouldn't survive getting torn apart.  
After some moments, however, Jamie forced himself to calm down. His grip was less desperate now, yet more protective as he pulled Nicky into the embrace, too. Nicky dropped right into her uncle's arms, sobbing, and he held both of them steadily upright, allowing Erin to calm down finally, too. Gently she put her arm round her daughter's shoulder and pulled back from Jamie to look into his eyes. "Thank you" she whispered with what could be a smile if it wasn't for today, but Jamie just shook his head. His face, so familiar through the years, had changed with all the pain, yet still she knew him so well. Knew him from the way he looked at her. From the way Nicky wouldn't let go of his hand, and he held hers firmly, protecting her. Her strong, brave little brother._

"I love you" Erin said, eyes closed, fingers still clawed around the wooden frame. Her hands hurt, but not enough to deafen the pleading of her heart. She needed this pain to end. It took too much energy from her, living with her brothers being dead, carrying them with her everywhere she went.

"Mom?" Nicky peeked into the room. She was beautiful.  
Erin took a deep breath. _Just one more day_. That was what she had promised herself when her mother had died, when Joe had died, and now… _Just one more day. One more of being strong and act like your heart wasn't broken.  
_"I love you, Nicky" she said, the safest and truest thing she could think of to say right now.  
Nicky burst into tears. "I love you too, mom!" She huddled against her mother, crying in her arms like she hadn't done for a long time.

**Frank & Henry**  
He woke up before dawn and made some coffee. Or – he wanted to make some, but Henry was already up in the kitchen, obviously busying his hands. The two men didn't speak, didn't even look at each other. This was not supposed to happen. They both had agreed about that, the last time they had sat there at half past four in the morning after a night with too bad dreams. And the worst of all that you couldn't wake up from.

"_What am I gonna do, dad? They say I'm to lay my son into a grave and have him waiting for me in heaven. That's not God's will. And it neither is mine."  
Henry stared into his coffee, saying nothing. In all his life he had never felt so helpless. It had hurt to see his wife die – it still hurt. And having his own son to suffer the same loss was something no father wanted to see. Henry knew that Frank was only just healing from losing Mary, he knew the path his son was walking on.  
But losing a child? He had no idea about that, and he thanked God for it – especially now, everyday since Danny had carried his little brother home.  
Home. Was that God's will? Did God even care? Henry knew he shouldn't think like that, that was the same cynicism that had cost him his job.  
At this he almost laughed. The job. God knew, they were all ready to die for their city. Serving your city, give your life for the people, that was all it came to in the end. And never, till that day, he had complained._

_Frank hadn't touched his coffee yet. "I was ready to die, pops" he said tonelessly, "when Mary died I was ready to follow her. But I stayed. I stayed for the family. I stayed for the people of New York City. To protect them. To save them from…" He faltered, and the cup reeled to the side. Henry walked over to his son and quickly took it out of his numb hands, put it onto the table as if Frank was still a child.  
Frank wiped over his face. "I couldn't even save my own son", he murmured, every word stabbing him with pain. Henry couldn't bear looking into his son's eyes. "Frank…"  
"Joe didn't need to be saved. He was right where he was meant to be. It was the bullet flying the wrong way, not Joe being anywhere he shouldn't!"  
The adults turned to the door Jamie had just opened, pale as death but his face open and mild and honest. Henry sighed with relief at his grandson's arrival. It took no further words, no explanations. Jamie said what he felt, and he said it not to hurt but to heal.  
Frank looked at his youngest son from over the table and Henry could almost see Jamie's eyes sink in. Finally the Police Commissioner started to shiver. What Henry couldn't do Jamie had made: Frank cried, face buried in his hands, and as Jamie walked over to him and hugged him, he opened up and held his son close, clinging to him for dear life. Jamie shook with sobbing, too, and as he saw the two men crying even Henry couldn't help but start weeping, too.  
This wasn't fair. No father should have to bury his son._

"What am I supposed to do, dad?" Frank stared out of the window absently. Henry didn't even look up from his cup. There were no words. And there was no Jamie who could keep Frank from breaking down. Both men shook violently with rage at their own helplessness, at the world, at God and death and everything that had led them so far.  
This time it was Frank who pulled the cup out of his father's hands after a while. Their eyes met briefly but could find no solace in each other.  
As Frank poured the coffee into the basin he felt bitterness rise inside him. How came the old ones were still alive and the young ones died? How came Jamie – his sweet little boy who had just sat on his lap, listening to old stories – was to be laid to rest now? What had he done to deserve resting? He was only twenty-six. It shouldn't be him out there.  
"Frank…"  
"Don't, pop. Don't try being my son." He couldn't find the strength to regret his harsh words.

Henry sighed. "If you knew how much I wish to be him" he said, with a passion and love that was seldom heard of him, "if you knew how much I wish Jamie to be here, and me into the grave instead! I'd do anything to have him back with us, Francis, anything! If only… if only…" He buried his face in his hands and wept silently. "I want him back", he murmured, "I want my grandson back!"

"So do I." Frank closed his eyes as fresh tears bit into them.  
"Pop, in all those years at the police, I… I never regretted joining it. It was hard, it was… but I was ready. I was ready to fight the wars coming up to me, and I was ready to sacrifice what was necessary. But not… not…" His voice collapsed in grief.

Henry stood up, grim solemnity on his face. "Not your son" he said loudly, frantic with all the desperation that hung in the room.  
"We swear to protect the city with our lives, with out bodies and mind, but not with our heart!" He was shouting now, shaking, his face pale as Jamie's had been.  
"We give the city everything it asks for, we bleed for it, we fight for it, we waste time of our life for it, but we're not to sacrifice our children! Who on earth ordered that? What do you want?" He fell silent as suddenly as he had shouted and sat down again, still shivering. For a moment Frank's heart was gripped by an icy hand as Henry clutched his chest right over his own heart.  
Should he lose his father now, too?

But Henry regained his breath, and time went on. They still had four hours left till Danny and Erin would come. Four hours till he would have to leave his son alone in a dark cold grave.  
Frank's heart beat normally again, and it hurt. With every movement it hurt, and it spoke. _Jamie_ it said. _My son. My baby boy. Come and help out of this. Come and help me get over you. _

**Danny  
**Danny hadn't slept at all. The night before the funeral he had kissed his sons and wife goodnight and left. Linda tried to hold him back, but only once. Her own heart was so filled with grief that she couldn't fight against her husband's.

Danny walked through New York city and tried to get home. This wasn't the city he knew anymore, the city he could live in. Something had changed, and now the mere look of the streets hurt. So damn much that he had to stop and lean against a wall.  
Nobody paid attention to him.  
_I'm alive, I'm a cop, I'm fighting for you! Don't you see me?  
_The world was still turning. That was what made it so hard to breathe for Danny. People moved on. They probably didn't even know what had happened. Jamie could live or be dead, and it didn't make any difference to them.  
Danny cried. He cried as he wandered through the streets like a stranger, like a shadow, for who was he? He was Jamie's brother. He was Jamie's older brother, it had been his job to protect him. And if people didn't think about Jamie, how could they ever think about him?

He should have protected Jamie. As he reached the street where the world had ended Danny broke down. He cried so hard he couldn't breathe.  
"I should've died here" he whispered to the cold pavement underneath him, "I should've died for you! I wanted to die for you. I would. I would anytime, kid. Why couldn't you just stay back?" His voice was weak and thin, frail as Jamie had been when he was born. When Danny had held him in his arms for the first time and promised he would take care of him.

_A heartbeat. That was all it took for Daniel Henry Reagan to forget math and school and his parents. All it took to raise a sense of protection in him, stronger than with Joe. Stronger than even with Erin. When they were born, Danny hadn't been able to do much to protect them.  
Now it was different. He would be an adult when Jamie would go to school. He was old enough now to protect his baby brother – and he would.  
A heartbeat to be charmed by Jamie's big brown eyes. Eyes that looked like his own, he realized, just somewhat better._

_Danny didn't smile at Jamie as he held him. But he prayed, silently. He prayed for Jamie to be happy and healthy, no matter what he'd have to do for it. It was the same prayer he said every night for his family, and God had not always fulfilled his wishes. _

Danny closed his eyes in the pale moonlight, forcing himself to stay in that happy realm of childhood. He wanted to stay there. He wanted Jamie to be a kid, he wanted him to go on telling jokes and smiling at Mrs. Morris so she would make them cookies, he wanted him to go doing trick-or-treat again, even if that meant he had to dress as Supergirl again.

But the tears wouldn't stop, and Danny sobbed loudly at the happy memories got washed away by time. All those years, every moment with his little brother. He hadn't always been nice to Jamie, he was so jealous sometimes. And he was so scared. So scared that one day he would be useless to the kid, so scared that one day Jamie wouldn't want him in his life anymore.

And even this, Danny would have managed to survive somehow. As long as Jamie was okay.

_They sat on the stairs of the porch, not touching but very close. It was one year since Joe had died. They had eaten together and visited their brother at the cemetery, and all of the had cried. Now it was evening, and Erin had already left with Nicky. It was school tomorrow, and life went on. It had to, for heaven's sake, Danny was a father and even if the thought of waking up to another day without his mom or his little brother – his sons deserved a wonderful life. It was for them that Danny had learned to keep on living, and to try and find beauty in the world again.  
And he knew he would have to leave now, too – time didn't yet matter to Sean but Jack was in school already. _

_Still Danny couldn't bring himself to leave. He couldn't. He needed to stay with Jamie, even if they were just sitting here silently._

"_Danny? Please!" Linda understood that he didn't want to leave. What she didn't understand, though, was that right now he couldn't.  
"I can't." He turned around to look at his beautiful wife, tears in his eyes. "I can't, baby."  
Linda was at his side immediately, wrapping her arms around his head. "Danny! Okay." She quickly nodded, tears in her eyes now, too. "Okay, it's fine, I'll bring the boys home and then I come and get you, alright?" Danny nodded. "Thank you."  
"It's okay. I love you." She kissed him, then put a hand on Jamie's shoulder and left._

_Jamie looked after her till she entered the house, then he turned to Danny.  
"Are you okay?" He was uncertain – normally it was Danny comforting him. If ever.  
"What? Yeah, yeah I'm good." Danny took a deep breath and managed a smile. It was okay. Jamie was still right beside him, he wouldn't leave him.  
"Sure? You're not angry anymore because I…"  
"Oh, screw the test, kid!" Danny shook his head, frustrated. "You're a better shooter than I. What do you expect from me, drowning myself in the next canal? Joe was better, too."  
"Was he?" Jamie's voice was strained now. Speaking of Joe still was hard for him. Danny looked at the younger in concern. He hated to see his little brother suffer. Jamie shouldn't even know what pain was, and it was Danny's job to make sure of that. Yet at the age of not even twenty-three the kid already lost his mother and one brother. And still he was eager to do good and help people.  
"Yes he was. But you're better even than him. You're gonna be the best cop in our family history, kid. If you make it through the rest of academy." He had wanted to say it light-hearted to cheer Jamie up a bit, but it obviously hadn't worked.  
Jamie shivered, trying to pull himself together. "I didn't mean to be better."  
"Why now? Jamie, that's the best hit rate I've ever seen! Be proud of you, come on!"  
Jamie shook his head, a single tear rolling down his face. Danny sighed. "Why? What's wrong about that now?" Now he was angry. What good did it to tell someone he was great if he just denied it?_

"_I didn't… I didn't want to be better than Joe." Jamie's voice was barely audible. "I never wanted to."  
"Kid, there's nothing wrong with being good." Danny's expression softened. "Joe'd be proud of you. Of the cop you'd become."  
"But he was better than I will be!" Jamie cried out. "I did this to honor my brother, not to be better than him, I'm not supposed to be better!" He jumped up. "If it wasn't for him I'd follow mom's advice and be a lawyer, you know that! I'm not supposed to be here, Danny! I'm not here to replace Joe!" He stormed away, leaving Danny behind. Not for long._

"_Hey." He found the younger one leaning at the trunk of a willow at the far border of the garden and sat down beside him, like they had on the porch.  
For a long time neither of them spoke. Jamie cried silently, and the mixture of pain, guilt and confusion on his face broke Danny's heart. He wanted to protect his baby brother, but could he help him if he felt so helpless himself?  
"I'm sorry." Jamie kept looking at the horizon as he spoke. Danny smiled. He simply wasn't good at starting conversations, that would always be Jamie's job.  
"No need, kid." He took a deep breath. "I miss him, too."  
Jamie clenched his teeth and nodded. A surge of pride washed through Danny as he saw his brother fighting for composure. Jamie was strong, stronger than him.  
"I wanted to honor him" the younger one repeated, "and now I feel like I've betrayed him." He looked at Danny. "That's Harvard-logic, isn't it?"  
Danny smiled gently. "A bit. But that's okay."  
He put his arm round Jamie's shoulders and pulled him close, forcing Jamie to look into his eyes. "Joe would be proud if he saw how good you were, Jamie, you hear me? You're honoring him. Don't you ever think again you have to be sorry for being yourself!"  
"I didn't…"  
"Yes, you did. And may just stop doing it because I see right through you." Danny tried to sound confident, but deep inside he was filled with fear. He couldn't lose another brother!_

"_Jamie, no matter what happened to Joe, or what might happen to dad or me or anyone else in the world" he said very earnestly, "this is your life. Any you deserve to live it the way you want to live it, no matter what people think. Understood?" He waited for Jamie to nod obediently.  
"Good. Because your life is what matters, Jamie. Your life" his voice croaked as Danny felt tears rising in his eyes, "Your life is one of the most important things of the world, you hear me? You hear me, kid?"  
Jamie nodded again, and Danny tried to calm down. "Good. Good." His arm slid off Jamie's shoulders and the younger one shuddered. "Thank you", he whispered, not sure what to say.  
"Anytime" Danny said calmly, not meeting Jamie's eyes. They stared at the horizon again._

"_Kid?" Danny took a deep breath. "You know I love you, right?"  
"I… I, yes…"  
"Because I do." Almost angry Danny turned to Jamie again, but the rush of anger disappeared as he saw his brother's gently face. "You're my brother, Jamie. And if you weren't, I couldn't be prouder of you. You're a great man, kid. Don't take me too seriously when I'm playing badass." He was very earnest now. "I have to. I have to be strict with you, kid, because I have to protect you. I can't lose you, little brother." He still held Jamie's glance, the tension between the brothers building up._

_Jamie swallowed. "I love you, too, Danny. Thanks for being there for me."  
"Anytime." Danny stood up and offered Jamie a hand. "That's my job. I'm your brother, I'm here to protect you. And you know you can come whenever you need me, right? No matter what it is. I'm here. I'm right here for you, Jamie, you know that!"_

_Jamie nodded quickly, so deeply stirred that he didn't quite trusted his voice. The tears started to fall down his cheeks, but for once Danny didn't joke about it. He waited for Jamie to pull himself together again, and then he turned around. "Let's go back, shall we? It's late. I gotta go home before Linda kills me."  
It wasn't long before he heard Jamie following. "I'll drive you home."  
"Nah, you don't have to."  
"Yes I do" Jamie said, with that sincerity that nobody could fight with. "I have to because I'm your little brother and I'm not gonna lose you, Danny. Never. I won't let it happen."_

_As they reached the house Jamie got out of the car as well. Danny took him in, smiling. God had taken much from him, yet he had given him much. Seeing Jamie becoming a cop, a detective probably, Sydney's husband and a father… that was almost worth the pain.  
"Thank for the ride, kid."  
"Anytime." For a moment Jamie stood next to his brother, indecisively. Then he hugged Danny fiercely, and Danny held him close, feeling him shivering and calming down in his arms.  
"I need you, kid. Take care of yourself, right?"  
"Will do." Jamie took a deep breath before they parted. "You too, Danny. You're my big brother. I..." He looked down, still wondering how tonight things were said he never had thought speakable "I can't imagine living without you."  
"Well, then I better make sure you won't have to!"_

Danny laughed. He had kept his promise, hadn't he? Jamie would never have to live without him. It was him who had to live without his brother.  
"Jamie" Danny whispered the name into the cold dark night. "Why did you do that? Why couldn't I take that bullet for you?" He looked around, but there was no one to be found, no one who'd turn the wheel of time back to make Danny and Jamie switch positions. Jamie was gone.

**bb-bb-bb-bb-bb-bb-bb-bb**

Erin had promised herself not to cry, and she stayed true to that promise. Until she saw Danny emerging the car, and the helpless grief in his eyes.  
It was then that Erin broke down crying, panting at the realization that she would never heal, that it would never again be okay, that it would never, never stop…  
"It's okay, it's okay, Erin, I got you. I got you." Danny held his little sister in his arms, hardly less distraught than she was. They both held each other upright as the family gathered in the living room, never leaving each other's side. It was only the two of them now, and they would not let go of the other, they couldn't because if they did the world would burst.

"Mom! Mom, it's dad!" Nicky could no longer part between good and bad news, it all went down in that rush of pain that was the knowledge of uncle Jamie's death. She loved him, he was her favorite uncle, he understood her and if he didn't, at least he was honest enough to say it. She had trusted him with everything, and he had always been there for her, always, even when he'd been busy up to the nose. He had always made sure she knew that she was important, and that she would never be alone. And now he was dead and she would never see or hug him or talk to him again.  
But dad – here – was that good or bad? Did he miss Jamie, too? Could he take the pain away? Sobbing she flew into her father's waiting arms.

Erin saw her ex-husband, and the first thing she felt was sympathy. Sympathy and gratefulness, and pride. Jack had loved Jamie. Everyone loved Jamie. There was no one, no one attending this funeral that had not felt the need to come from deep inside. She smiled at her daughter's father, something she hadn't done in two years. It was for Jamie. All for Jamie.

He couldn't take the pain away. Nicky knew it as soon as Jack hugged her. She loved him, and she was thankful he was there, but he couldn't replace her uncle. Nothing could. The girl cried harder, feeling all alone. She wanted to go home! What were they doing on that goddamn cemetery?

"Nicky!" Jack and Sean stood at her side suddenly, Sean crying, Jack right at the edge. Both boys were still too confused from all the grief and death around them. They would take more time to realize what it was to live without uncle Jamie for the rest of their lives – about ninety long years.

"Let's go to grandpa. I guess he needs us", Jack said bravely. "Yes, we gotta show him we won't ever forget uncle Jamie", Sean added.  
Nicky smiled in tears. She bent down and hugged her cousins. "You're the best nephews he could have had!"  
"Really?" Sean's face lit up. Nick nodded earnestly. "Really, Sean. Let's go be there for grandpa." She nodded back at her dad who understood, then took her cousins' hands and made her way over to her family.

Frank stood in front of Jamie's tomb, but he didn't see it. Before his eyes he saw Jamie, telling him was becoming a cop. Asking him for the ring. Laughing and playing with his nephews. Being the only one Henry ever allowed to help him.

There were no tears anymore to be cried. Frank stood at the edge and felt his son's presence everywhere. The sun came out after all, it's rays shining onto Betty's and Mary's and Joe's grave. He looked up and saw Renzulli, just like yesterday. The sergeant held a bunch of peonies in his hands, shivering in his hands. Yet as he realized Frank looking at him Renzulli held the glance, his eyes filled with sadness and respect, and gratefulness. Frank swallowed and nodded, then let his eyes wander over the other guests. Many police officers, of course, high ranked and rookies. He saw Maria the sniper and Timothy from Harvard, Baker and Jackie standing next to each other, Jack behind them, and a woman that must be Yolanda Gonsalves.  
The mayor had wanted to come, too, but Frank had asked him not to. This was his little son's goodbye, and he wanted nobody involved that didn't know Jamie in some point of his life.

And they all had. Frank saw it in the way people looked at the tomb in front of him. All those people who had met Jamie Reagan had been touched by his kindness, and it had changed them, if just for a moment. He looked back and saw his family closing in. Linda supported Henry, sobbing into his shoulder, while Danny and Erin still held each other. Behind them stood Nicky and the boys, holding hands.

Despite his tears, Frank smiled. Once again he saw his son alive, standing right in front of him. Smiling. Jamie had fulfilled his duty. He was a good cop. He was a good son. A good brother. A good man.

Erin and Danny came closer and parted only to take Frank's hands, and they knelt down together in front of a symbol – a wooden box that hid a beloved face from them. The man behind it, though, was still near and Frank knew that Jamie would never fade, never really leave the family.  
The others moved closer now, Linda kneeling down beside Danny, Henry leaning against his son. Nicky didn't let go of her cousins as she sat down in front of them all, around the tomb.  
Frank took a deep breath. "In days like these, there's nothing as important as realizing what you have." He looked up at the crowd again, addressing everybody, "we all have been blessed to have Jamie in our lives. Whether it was for a day or a year… or even for the only twenty-six years he had to live…" He broke off. Linda put her hand on his shoulder.  
"Today I want you to remember what my son was for you. I want you to remember the man that he was, the mistakes he made, and most of all the joy this little boy could bring into the world." He shivered, but he was determined to finish this. His children nodded in encouragement.  
"When I woke up today I wondered how I would get to come here. How it could be that my legs still work when my heart is broken. Well, I did it because I had to. I did it for my son. I did it because I know that everyone of you meant something to him. I know that he wished the best for you. And I believe that he is with us now, watching us, probably. Wanting us to go on. To keep doing what he did. Fighting. Fighting with the power of justice, and of love and understanding for a better world. And I will fight, son. I promise. I will not disappoint you. I love you. I will always love you. And I will always, with every beat of my heart, carry you with me. And hopefully I will bring this world half as much love and joy that you brought me. And I ask everyone of you to do the same. To keep fighting with me. And to make this world the place that Jamie wanted it to be."

He fell silent, though there was still so much to say. Erin closed her eyes, taking in the sobbing and clapping of the guests.  
"He held us together", she whispered.

"No", Danny said. He took Erin's hand in his again. "He still does." He looked up into the sky, then at the tomb. "And you'll always do, kid."


End file.
